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Crown and Sceptre: A West Country Story, a novel by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 2. Behind The Stair |
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_ CHAPTER TWO. BEHIND THE STAIR Fred was up again in a moment, ready to pass his arms through and help his friend; but the latter had already recovered himself, and was holding on with both hands, now staring between the balusters like a wild beast through the bars of his cage. "What's the matter?" he said. "I thought you were falling. Which one broke?" "I don't know; neither of them." "But what was that clacking noise?" "I don't know. The baluster seemed to turn half round, and then fly back as if it had a spring at the bottom." "I know! Look here. It wrenched this stair loose. I trod on it, and that's what made me fall." "Wait till I've gone down to the bottom," said Scarlett, "and we'll soon put that right." As he spoke, the lad went on down, hand by hand, as Fred had made the descent before him, and then came running up the polished oaken stairs to where his companion stood by the top stair but one, upon which lay a broad stain of red and gold, cast by a ray of light passing through one of the painted windows. "It must have come unnailed," said Scarlett, as he knelt down. "I don't think it has," replied Fred, as he knelt beside him. "Look here, it's quite loose; and see here, you can push it right in." He thrust at the oaken board as he spoke, and it glided horizontally from them under the top step which formed the landing, and left a long opening like a narrow box the length and width of the stair. "Don't push too far," cried Scarlett, "or we shan't get it back. Pull." The boys pulled together, and the oaken tread glided back toward them with the greatest ease, like a well-made drawer. "Mind!" shouted Fred. And they snatched away their fingers just in time to save a nasty pinch, for the board came swiftly back into its position. There was a sharp _crick-crack_, and the stair was as solid as before, and the broad stain from the painted window lay in its old place on the dark brown wood. Scarlett Markham turned and stared at Fred Forrester, and Fred Forrester turned and stared at him. "I say, what do you think of that?" said Scarlett. "I don't know. What do you?" "I don't know either," said Scarlett, trying to move the board again. But it was firm as the rest of the stairs. "Did you see that baluster?" said Fred. "See it? No. What do you mean?" "It seemed to me to move and make that noise." "Nonsense! How could it?" "I don't know, but it was just the same noise as it made when you missed your hold and swung round." "So it was; and I had hold of it," said Scarlett, thoughtfully, as he laid his hand on the piece of turned and carved wood. "But it's quite firm." He gave it a shake, but with no effect. "You come and try," he said. Fred took his place, and shook the baluster, then the other--its fellow--but there was no result. "I don't know what to make of this," said Scarlett. "I wonder whether all the stairs are made the same. There, never mind; let's go and fish." "Stop a moment!" cried Fred, excitedly. "Look here; you can turn this thing half round. See!" "Well, that's only because it's loose. They're getting old and--" _Crick-crack_! Scarlett Markham started back, so quick and sudden was the sound, but only to resume his position on his knees before the oaken stair-tread, which again yielded to a thrust, and glided under the landing once more, leaving the opening the length and breadth of the great stair. "Why, it's like the lid of a sliding box, Scar," cried Fred. "Now then, let's pull it over once more. But look here, it won't go any further." This was the case, for about an inch of the carved front was left for them to take hold of and draw it back, which they did, the board gliding easily toward them, and closing with a loud snap. "There! I did see it then," cried Scarlett. "What?" "That baluster. It half twisted round. Why, Fred, it's a hiding-place. Here, let's open it again. Perhaps it's full of gold." Fred was quite willing, for his curiosity was excited; so, seizing the baluster with both hands, he gave it a twist. There was the sharp sound as of a catch being set at liberty; the board moved, and was once more thrust back. "Now let me try," cried Scarlett, "so as to make sure." The opening was closed again, the baluster twisted, and it was again opened, the lads pausing before the dark cavity, across which the coloured rays played over a bar of dancing motes. "Seems to me," said Fred, "that we've discovered a secret. Does your father know of it, do you think?" "I feel sure he doesn't. I say, let's see if there's anything inside." "Do you think we ought to?" "I wouldn't, if I thought my father knew about it; but I don't believe he does, so I shall try. Of course I shall tell him." "Yes, of course," said Fred, whose curiosity pricked him on to action, and who felt relieved by his companion's words. "But do you think it's a secret drawer?" "Yes, I'm sure it is, or it wouldn't be made like that." "But perhaps they are all made this way." This was a damper; for if the stairs were all made in this fashion, there could be no secret. "Let's try," said Scarlett; and together they turned and twisted with all their might at every baluster from top to bottom, but without result. "Then it is a secret drawer," said Fred, in a low, husky voice. "More like a coffin," said Scarlett. "Ugh!" "I hope no one's buried here." "Oh, I say, don't talk like that," cried Fred. "It's too horrible." "Well, it might be so. Some one been killed years ago, and put there." "'Tisn't likely," said Fred. "But, if it is a secret place, we oughtn't to let any of the servants know." "I didn't think of that," replied Scarlett; and, drawing the oaken board back, the spring was closed, and the boys went and looked out to see that Nat Dee was busy over the garden beds; and further investigation proved that the indoor servants were all in the other part of the house. "They would go up the back-stairs if they wanted anything," said Scarlett, as they returned to the place where the coloured light shone; but it had already somewhat altered its position as Fred seized the baluster, turned it, and the board lay loose. "Now, then, what are we going to find?" cried Scarlett, as he thrust back the board, and then recoiled a little and looked at his companion. Fred looked at him, and both lads felt that their hearts were beating fast. "Not scared, are you, Fred!" "No, I don't think so." "Then you may have first try if you like. What do you say?" "Nothing," replied Fred. "I feel as if I should like to, but all the same I don't like. Let's try with a stick. There may be something nasty there; perhaps rats." "They wouldn't have stopped; but you're right. Go down and fetch a stick." "You will not try till I come back?" said Fred, doubtingly. "No, I shall not try. Make haste." Fred was not long running down to one corner of the hall, and obtaining a stout ashen cudgel, which he handed to his companion, who, after a moment's hesitation, thrust in the staff, and found that the opening was about half as deep again as the height of the step; but though he tapped the bottom, which seemed to be firm, and tried from side to side, there was nothing solid within, nothing but a fine, impalpable dust, which made its presence known, for both lads began to sneeze. "I'm glad there are no bones in it," said Scarlett. "It was only meant to put something in; made on purpose, I suppose. Just a long box: nothing more, and--Halloa!" "What have you found?" "Nothing, only that it's all open at the back, and I can--yes, so I can!--reach right back; yes, as far as the stick will go." "That place wouldn't be made for nothing, Scar," cried Fred. "I know. That's the way to somewhere." "Nonsense!" "I don't care; I know it is, and you see if--" "Some one coming," whispered Scarlett, stooping down and dragging the board toward him, when there was a sharp crack, and the stair was once more firm, just as steps were heard coming along the corridor, and one of the servant-maids passed along the gallery and entered a room at the end. "Wait a bit," whispered Scarlett, as soon as the maid had passed out of hearing. "We'll get a bit of candle and lock the end door, and then we'll see what this means; for, as you say, it must have been made for something. But it can't be a way anywhere, or they would have made it upright like a door." "If they could," said Fred, thoughtfully. "Perhaps it was meant for people to go through lying down." "Well, wait a bit," said Scarlett, "and we'll see." Unkind people say that girls have the bump of curiosity greatly developed, far more so than boys. This is a vulgar error, for the latter are quite as eager to know as their sisters, and from the moment that the heavy oak board was replaced, Fred Forrester and Scar Markham suffered from a fit of excitement which they could not allay. For, as is usually the case, the person they wanted to go seemed determined to stay. That person was the maid, who appeared to have found something very important to do in the room at the end of the corridor; and it was impossible to continue the examination till she had returned to the servants' quarters. Scar fetched a candlestick with a short piece of candle burning therein, and shut it up in one of the great cupboards in the hall, so as to lose no time. Then they fidgeted up and down, listening intently the while; examined some of the well-oiled, warlike weapons on the walls; crept upstairs and along the corridor to listen at the bedroom door; ran down again, and waited until the suspense seemed unbearable. "I believe she has gone to bed and fallen asleep," whispered Fred. "Nonsense! She dare not in that best room." "Let's go out in the garden, then, and leave it till another day." "And when will that be? Why, everybody will be about then. No; we must examine the place to-day." "What's that?" cried Fred, suddenly. "What's what?" "I can smell fire." "Well, they're cooking in the kitchen, I suppose." "No, no; it's wood burning. Oh, Scar, look there!" As Fred pointed toward the great closet in one corner of the hall, the lads could see a thin blue film of vapour stealing out through the crack at the top; and their first inclination was to run away and shout "Fire!" But second thoughts are best. "Come on," cried Scar; and he ran to the closet door, swung it open, and the reason for the smoke was plain enough to see. The candle which they had hidden there till the maid came down had been badly fastened in the socket; had fallen over sidewise, probably when the door was closed, and was now leaning up against the oak wainscot, guttering down rapidly, and burning a long, channel-like hole in the woodwork, which was pouring forth smoke, and would in a few minutes have become serious. As it was, a little presence of mind was sufficient to avert the danger. The candle was removed, and a handkerchief pressed against the smouldering wainscot stifled the tiny fire, while the windows being open, the pale blue smoke soon evaporated, and the candle was left securely now as the lads re-entered the hall and carefully closed the door once more. "We should have looked nice if the old hall had been burned down," said Fred. "Oh, nonsense!" was the reply. "The place is too strong and full of oak and stone. The hall couldn't be burned. Here, it's of no use waiting any longer; she will not come down. Let's go out in the garden." Fred glanced at the stairs, and followed his companion unwillingly; but no sooner were they outside than Scar called his companion's attention to the bedroom window, where the maid in question was leaning out, watching Nat Lee, as he slowly did his work. The girl caught sight of the two lads, drew back, and as they waited in the great porch they had the satisfaction of hearing her go back, along the corridor, closing the door at the end. "Now, Fred," said Scarlett, excitedly, "we're safe at last." He dashed up the stairs and slipped the bolt of the door through which the maid had just passed, and returned to the top of the stairs. "Come along," he whispered. "Don't stand there. Bring the light." Fred ran to the great closet and obtained the burning candle. The baluster was twisted; there was the familiar _crick-crack_; the loose step was thrust back, and the boys stood looking into the long box-like opening. "Wouldn't it be safer to fasten the front door too?" said Fred in a whisper. "Yes, and be quick," replied his companion in the same low, excited manner. Fred ran down, closed the great oaken door, ran a ponderous bolt into its receptacle, and again joined his companion. "Now then," whispered Scarlett, "what shall we do?" As he spoke he knelt down and thrust the candle in as far as he could reach, disclosing the fact that this was no rough back to the staircase, but a smooth, carefully finished piece of work. "Shall we try if we can creep in?" suggested Fred. "I hardly like to; but if you will, I will." "I will," replied Fred, laconically. "But how are we to get in? It isn't deep enough to crawl." "Tell you what," cried Fred, "I think the way is to lie down in it and then roll along. There's plenty of room that way." "Will you try?" "If you'll come after me." "Go on, then." Fred hesitated a few moments, and then holding the candle as far forward as he could he lay down, but instead of rolling, shuffled himself along under the landing, finding plenty of room for his journey, and pushing the light onward as he crept sidewise. "Coming, Scar?" he whispered rather hoarsely. "Yes, I'm coming. Mind the candle doesn't set fire to anything. What's that?" "Only a cobweb burning. The place is full of them; and--Oh, Scar!" "What is it?" "I can get my legs down here, and--yes, it's a narrow passage, and I can stand upright." Wondering more and more, Scarlett shuffled along to his companion, and directly after they were standing together in a passage so strait that they could barely pass along it as they stood square, their shoulders nearly touching the sides. "Yes, it's a passage, sure enough," said Scarlett, in an awe-stricken whisper, as by the light Fred held he could see that the sides and ceiling were of rough oak panelling, the floor being flagged with stone. "Shall we go on?" whispered Fred. "Yes. Why not? You're not afraid, are you?" "Yes, a little. It's all so strange. Don't you feel a little--" "Yes, just a little; but there can't be any thing to be afraid of. You must go first." Fred hesitated a few moments, and then went on for quite forty feet, when the narrow passage turned off at a right angle for about another twenty, when it again bent sharply round in the same direction as at first. "This cannot be a chimney?" whispered Scarlett, for the darkness and heavy dusty air seemed to oppress them. "No; they wouldn't make a chimney of wainscotting. Oh!" "What have you found?" "Look here; a lot of stone steps." The boys stood looking at the old stone stairway, which seemed to invite them to a higher region, but still as narrow as the passage. The stones were dusty, and cobwebs hung in all directions; but everything seemed as if it had been unused ever since the architect put the finishing touches to the place. The two boys looked at the stairway, Fred holding up the candle, and Scar peering over his shoulder for some moments before the former spoke. "Think we'd better go back now." "Yes," said Scarlett; "only doesn't it seem cowardly?" Fred remained silent for a while, and then said with a sigh-- "I suppose it does. Come on." "Are you going up?" "Yes. I don't want to. It's all so dark and creepy; but we should laugh at each other for being frightened when we got out." Scar nodded his head, and after a little more hesitation, Fred went slowly up the stairs, to find that from the top another narrow passage went off at right angles. As they stood together on the narrow landing, Scar exclaimed-- "Here, I know. These are only openings through the thick walls to keep them dry." "Look!" said Fred, pointing before them at a thin pencil of light which made a spot on the wall. "That's sunshine," cried Scarlett, "and shows what I said. This is one of the walls we are in, and that must be the south." "Why?" said Fred, trying to touch the slit through which the light came. "Because the sun shines in. Let's go on to the end." This was soon reached, for at the end of a dozen steps they came upon a narrow door studded with great nails, and after a little hesitation, Fred pushed this, and the boys started back at the hideous groan which greeted them. _ |
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